


Always By His Side

by Kahlan_Amnell



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-22
Updated: 2012-09-22
Packaged: 2017-11-14 22:01:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/519957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kahlan_Amnell/pseuds/Kahlan_Amnell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spencer kept watch as he waited-- in the present and past lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Always By His Side

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted by aquazephyrus: 'Hotch/Reid, “You’re my prince. I don’t care what anyone else thinks.”'

He was lying on the bed before me, pale and still as death. I was concerned, and reasonably so, I would think. I hovered by his bedside, reluctant to even leave him for as long as it took to use the bathroom. The barely perceptible rise and fall of his chest told me he was still alive. I watched, and barely registered the ambient noises of the heart monitor and hospital personnel moving about in the corridor.

~*~

Once, there was a prosperous kingdom— a kingdom that boasted of the finest in all the land. People from far and wide came to trade and buy wares from the citizens of that grand kingdom.

Until, one day, a terrible illness swept the land. The streets that once held the sounds of horse drawn carts, peddlers marketing their wares, and children’s laughter had stilled. The only sound being the wind that whispered by, carrying the stench of sickness and death.

Trade was disrupted, and the gates to the inner city had been closed to prevent the disease from spreading.

But it was too late.

As the contagion continued to spread, healers and herb gatherers raced to discover a cure.

The prince, who cared deeply for his people, had even instructed his own healers and scientists to put all their efforts to contribute their knowledge and manpower to finding a cure for what was crippling the land.

Together with his knave, the prince refused to sit by and watch as his people suffered. Day after day, he went to the laboratories, studied the notes from the previous nights, and used his knowledge to aid in the efforts to find a cure.

Then disaster struck.

Despite keeping the castle gates closed and the research laboratories housed separately on the castle grounds, some of the healers began exhibiting symptoms of the mysterious illness that had infected so many and claimed numerous lives. Even quarantining them had been a measure too late to halt the progress.

 

It had also been too late in keeping the prince safe, as he had also began to succumb to the illness. The prince kept to his apartments in the castle, and ordered his servants to keep away so that the sickness would not be spread as easily. Meals were to be sent up and left at the door, the trays collected later by servants wearing protective layers of garments.

Day by day, the prince began to grow weaker. Despite his protests, there was one person whose loyalty was so strong that he would defy the prince’s orders by remaining by his side throughout it all.

The knave took on the duties that were normally handled by the servants when the prince was well, and even more as the prince’s strength waned.

Each day, the prince despaired at the thought of causing his beloved knave to fall ill to the contagion, despite the knave having yet to show any symptoms of infection.

At night, the prince would try to send the knave away by saying ‘I’ll be alright. You needn’t worry about me.’ In the mornings, he tried to send the knave away again, with ‘You need your rest as well.’

All the excuses and protests were firmly rebuffed. The knave would not be dissuaded by any means. He was even so bold as to have some of his personal effects brought to the prince’s apartments, simply stating ‘I’m here to serve my liege in any capacity I can.’

There was no task too great to handle nor deemed beneath his station. The knave even took it upon himself to fetch and heat water and help the weakened prince bathe.

The prince had tried to wave him off, insisting on having a proper bath drawn. He fell back among the pillows; the dizziness made it difficult to even sit up, let alone stand. The prince put a hand up to his face, closing his eyes in shame. ‘You have done so much for me already, Spencer. Much more than I dare ask of anyone. And what you wish to do for me…’ he trailed off, uncertain how to phrase his words without giving offense to the one man whose opinion mattered greatly.

The knave reassured him, ‘If you were to ask me for the moon and it were within my power to do so, Sire, I would not find the task arduous or too demanding.’

The prince remained unconvinced, lowered his hand and viewed the knave with a disapproving frown. ‘You have been in my apartments for days. The servants bring up meals for two. What will they think?’

The knave let out an exasperated huff. ‘Sire, may I remind you that you were adamant that your orders were to be followed  _to the letter?_  Your concern for the well-being of others is to be greatly admired. No one else has dared come to your apartments because your precautions are sound. And anyone who begins exhibiting symptoms of the disease is quarantined to deter the contagion from spreading.

‘You made your decrees at the onset of whatever illness this is. The battle over your body has taken its toll.’ Spencer’s gaze softened. ‘When I entered service to the royal court, I took the vows very seriously. I consider it to be a great honour to have become one of your most trusted advisors. My position is not a secret. Your subjects are aware that I am usually found not too far from your presence. And on the day you became infected, we both know that I had been exposed to the sickness too. I will either eventually begin to exhibit symptoms or am a carrier and cannot move about the general populace.’

He shrugged. ‘You needn’t fight this battle on your own, my liege. And since I have already been exposed, there is little point in risking another life nor taking a healer away from the efforts of finding a cure. Besides,’ he continued, stooping by the side of the bed to make it easier for the other man to continue to meet his gaze, ‘You’re my prince. I don’t care what anyone else thinks. I would gladly go fetch a cup of burning sulfur from Hades if it was required of me.’

At that, a small smile tugged at the lips of the dark-haired prince. ‘Surely it would not be required of you.’ The smile faded, and his sombre mien returned. ‘But, you’re right. I am grateful for your dedication and loyalty to the crown— and to me. It also pains me greatly that you have been put at risk because of me. And yet, I do not know who else I would rather have by my side during this time.’

‘I could have told you that— indeed, I have told you that, every day since your self-imposed quarantine.’

He went to fetch the kettle from beside the fireplace, then helped free the prince from his robes. Using fresh cloths, he proceeded to wash and tend to the prince, then helped him into clean garments.

The effort of bathing had sapped the prince of what little energy he had left, and he murmured no protest as the knave settled him back onto the bed, nor was there any argument about being tucked under the covers.

When the knave turned to step away, a hand snaked out from under the bedding and snatched his wrist. He was taken aback by the strength in his prince’s grip, his mouth forming a small ‘o’ in surprise.

The prince’s eyes were open wide, his gaze upon the knave was focused intensely. ‘Don’t go,’ he said in a harsh whisper.

Turning to face him, the knave replied in a reassuring tone, ‘Sire, you need your rest. And it is most efficient if I do the same. I will not be far from you— my pallet is set up with the supplies that we thought you might need. You need only to call for me and I will be by your side.’

The grip on the slender wrist tightened. ‘No. I do not wish that. Stay. Here.’ The prince tugged at him, trying to draw him back towards the bed. ‘I wish for you to stay with me. Please,’ he added, beseechingly.

The knave considered the request before assenting. ‘Allow me to gather up—’

‘No. That is not necessary. There is more than sufficient room in this bed.’

‘But, Sire,’ the knave protested, ‘it would not be proper.’

‘By whose standards? I will be crowned king; I am next in line. No one dares barge into my chambers. And that was before this contagion struck the land. I require this of you, and it is much simpler to grant than a cup of burning sulfur from Hades. Do you not agree?’

‘Sire—’

‘We are in my chambers. There is no one else around. You have seen more of me than any other person. There is no need to stand on formality, is there?’ The prince paused. At the knave’s smallest of nods, he continued, ‘You have been my confidant for some while now. You have addressed me as ‘Aaron’ in past occasions, in private. I would like it very much if you could do so now.

The knave licked his lips, then gave a slow nod. ‘Aaron. If that is your desire and your request, I shall grant it.’ With his free hand, he patted the prince’s hand that was still holding his wrist, and gave the briefest of smiles. When they broke contact, he went around to the other side of the bed, where he discarded his outer layers and slipped in under the coverlets and furs.

Aaron looked over at the other man, grateful for the measure of comfort he had asked for. ‘Thank you… my friend.’

Spencer hummed in assent. ‘Good night, sweet prince,’ he murmured.

The other man didn’t reply; he had already fallen asleep.

 

Some more days passed, and still there was no cure to be found. The citizens were becoming unruly, as panic had set in. With trade disrupted, incomes were lost, and people were frantic with worry. Those who were able to, were trying to flee in droves. Those who weren’t, were too sick to do anything else but wait for the end.

Spencer, along with many others, had begun exhibiting the early symptoms of the disease. Despite Aaron’s demands for Spencer to rest as well, he continued to serve his prince faithfully, to the best of his ability.

Finally, the healers and herb gatherers and scientists had a breakthrough. They had tested various combinations on their afflicted peers before finding the cure. It was then a race against the clock to produce as much as possible and to distribute it to the populace.

After a time, the afflicted began to recover. And through it all, the knave put the well-being of his prince above everything else.

When the prince pressed him about it, he replied, ‘You mean everything to me, Aaron. I love you like I have loved no other. I cannot bear even the thought of you not being here, and I not being by your side.’

The prince, touched by the heartfelt words, grasped the hands of his faithful knave and dotted kisses across the knuckles, then pressed another one to the other man’s forehead. ‘Your presence has been a comfort and a reassurance throughout all these years. I cannot remember how things were like before I found you. I refuse to contemplate what life would be like without you by my side.’

As the prince regained his strength and health, he also regained his independence. The castle resumed its daily routines, but the prince remained true to his words. He had servants rearrange his numerous rooms, and the furnishing in his sitting room. Across the corridor, the rooms there had been redone as well, and had the servants move the knave’s possessions into them.

They broke fasts together in the prince’s sitting room, and were as inseparable as protocol allowed it— with a few concessions made. The kingdom flourished, and grew even more prosperous than before.

~*~

I had the sensation of floating, with only the gentle touch of fingers running through my hair, the nails lightly scraping my scalp in a rhythmic motion.

I shifted slightly, wanting a firmness to the touch, something to grasp onto. Tingling pain in my left forearm and fingers made me realise that I had fallen asleep and circulation was being restored now that I wasn’t using it like a pillow.

I blinked my way to wakefulness, then realised whose hand it was and bolted to sitting upright.

“Aaron!” I cried out.

He laid there, propped up with extra pillows, but he was awake. Finally. I had never been so relieved to be scrutinized by those piercing dark orbs. Ever the profiler, he was.

My husband gave a light chuckle, which turned into a cough. He accepted a glass of water I handed to him from the bedside table.

After setting it aside, he took my hand and pulled me into a hug. It was such a comfort to have those arms around me. A couple days’ growth on his face was coarse and felt rough, but I welcomed the sensation, the reassurance.

He looked horrible; drawn, pale made even more sickly by the dark scruff, and deep circles under his eyes. Even without looking in a mirror, I could say that I looked the same. I had barely left his side since he had fallen ill.

Jessica had offered to watch over Jack. I had resisted, initially, but had given in. I felt guilty, that I hadn’t taken care of myself while Aaron was in the hospital. But I did consider that if I had to look after Jack, I would’ve have done things differently. Responsibility was a familiar weight on my shoulders.

I was jolted out of my thoughts when Aaron pulled out of the embrace.

He cupped my check, his thumb brushing the stubble. “Spencer…”

I gave a sheepish grin.  _Of course._  “I know. It won’t be so hard now that you’ve regained consciousness. And Jack’s been with Jessica. You know how it is, trying to remember to make yourself a priority when there’s someone else. Given a choice between you and me, you’ll always come first.”

Our gazes were still locked on each other— the intensity of love brimming in his eyes. I felt like I was like falling into those depths.

I did fall. I didn’t realise it until we kissed that either of us had moved. Pulling back, I gave his arm a squeeze.

“I love you, sweetheart. Now, when do I get out of here?” he asked. He had slipped on his Unit Chief demeanor, but I knew him well enough to see what lay beneath. The air of expectancy, the glimmer of hope in his eyes.

I longed to give him what he wants; it’s what he  _needs_  that I respond as I did. “If I had my way, I’d spring you out of here right now. But we’ll have the doctor look you over first and let’s make sure you don’t need to come back here for a long time.”

I laughed at the face he made, then said, “I want to take you home, and not let you out of bed for a month.”

Giving me a wink, he replied, “As long as I can keep you there with me, I think I can live with that. Now, go, so you can hurry back.”


End file.
